


Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon

by preciousbunnynoiz



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Asexual Character, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Other, Post-Canon, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, dealing with the closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 12:29:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19151062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preciousbunnynoiz/pseuds/preciousbunnynoiz
Summary: Aziraphale reminisces about a young man he used to be friendly with and Crowley listens.





	Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon

His Angel had that look on his face.

The one that said he was trying to piece together something.

They were driving to a particularly nice little cafe and because Crowley was in a bit of a funny mood they were deliberately listening to Queen.

A Night At The Opera to be precise. 

It amused him to ponder whether the Bentley would turn something that was already Queen into a different Queen album.

It was a lovely afternoon or it would have been if Aziraphale just spoke up about whatever was on their mind.

"Angel what are you worrying about now?" Crowley finally asked asked as they sped through the lanes at a much slower rate than usual. Crowley didn’t want to give the Angel motion sickness (again) and the lanes were windy enough as they were. 

"I was just thinking. I had never noticed before with how you drive and all but that this singer sounds a _quite_ a  bit like a human I used to have friendly relations with." Aziraphale explained after a moment.

“What? Really? Hell of a coincidence that.” Crowley turned a corner and they drove a bit longer with the voice of Freddy Mercury filling the car. 

Aziraphale was very carefully not elaborating on his earlier statement and the tension about it hung in the air.

“What kind of friendly relations?” Crowley eventually caved into curiosity and asked, “Not that I really care mind you” 

“Well!” Aziraphale didn’t care about Crowley’s feigned disinterest and his eyes sparkled, “Back in the 80’s I was having my hair done by a lovely young man named Jim and one day he stumbled into my bookshop with his young man and the three of us got to talking and he was  _ extraordinarily  _ interesting! He and Jim invited me over for tea and I got to meet his cats of which he was  _ ever  _ so fond and discuss opera. It really was delightful. I told him about hobbies and how I like to go painting in the Louvre and just it was quite fun.” Aziraphale smiled happily as he reminisced. 

Meanwhile Crowley’s brain had caught up with what Aziraphale was actually saying.

“Hang on! What was this guys name?”

“Hm? Oh Freddy. He was a  _ terribly  _ charming fellow. We used to meet for tea and a natter about art and music fairly often. Most of his lifestyle was a bit not my type. A bit too loud and fast but you can’t beat a good natter about opera over tea and biscuits can you? I was terribly sad when he died. An illness you know. Tragic really.” 

The Bentley came to a screeching halt on the side of the road. 

“You were friends with Freddy Mercury!? What the hell Angel!” 

Crowley had met Freddy briefly at some party in the band’s early days where there was a lot of drugs and alcohol and humans sharing bodily fluids (a practice that had always mildly grossed out Crowley). He would never have imagined the lead singer of one of the biggest rock groups ever to have been friends with  _ Aziraphale _ of all beings. 

“Yes? Is that a problem?” and Crowley had to laugh. His Angel certainly knew how to surprise him.

“So you just talked about opera and cats?” he asked as he finally stopped laughing and pulled back into the road.

“Well mostly. We also discussed how...difficult it can be to honest with your family. How scary it is to know you might be rejected. Jim...well he understood as well and didn’t feel the need to discuss it but I rather think Freddy needed someone to talk to about it and I could...relate.” 

That drained away Crowley’s amusement. Because he knew.

He knew why Aziraphale always found himself drawn to those who didn’t fit the mold. Who didn’t conform to society’s fit.

Those whose love was often forced into hiding. 

He didn’t have much to say to that. 

He had never felt guilty for loving Aziraphale.

Cautious?

Yes.

Afraid of being rejected by the person he loved?

Of course.

But he never felt guilty.

He knew though that that wasn’t the same case for his Angel.

So instead of words he did what he did best and put his feelings into actions.

Crowley reached out a hand and gently took Aziraphale’s and gave it a gentle squeeze.

His Angel squeezed back and smiled at him in a way that made Crowley almost feel like he could be blessed. 

They rode in silence for a bit longer. 

“It’s a nice day isn’t it?” Aziraphale said finally, as he looked out the window.

“Yes,” Crowley agreed giving the angel’s hand one last squeeze before withdrawing his hand, “perfect for a lazy Sunday afternoon.”

“Quite”


End file.
